


Lion's Tooth

by Witchtomez



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Character Resolution, Choi Saeran-centric, Healing, Internal Conflict, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovering Choi Saeran, Unknown vs Saeran, Zine piece
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:14:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22571569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witchtomez/pseuds/Witchtomez
Summary: The Dandelion, whether regarded as a flower or a weed, is well known for it's resilience.Climbing to his feet, Saeran takes a tentative step towards peace...starting with himself.[Written for Unknown Zine]
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Lion's Tooth

_ The only reason we’ve survived this far is because of me! _

Regardless of how many nights he’d been allowed to sleep as he wished, Saeran still found himself in this argument daily.

He almost longed for when he’d been hospitalized, sleeping dreamlessly by the grace of sedatives added to the IV drip—however, after expelling the toxins, Saeran had begrudgingly understood the need for delicacy upon his strained organs.

Unfortunately, melatonin quailed against the bristling fury of his inner voice, rankling indignantly by day’s end as he retreated to the plush comfort of his own bed. 

Though Saeran now possessed his own bedroom and a growing number of gifts from Saeyoung and people who claimed to want his friendship…there was always the seething lecture snarled at him from the darkest shadows of his exhausted mind.

_ You’re so easily bought, you simpering dipshit! Do you think any of these bastards actually care about us?! _

The tremors began, radiating from his center until his fingers twitched.

“That’s a lot of effort if they don’t care, isn’t it?”

It was a quiet whisper, barely audible, said aloud in the vague hope that the sentiment could become a mantra against the derisive tirades.

_ It’ll be a drop in a bucket once they’ve got you trained to do what they want—are you already desperate to bark for another master? _

He swallowed harshly, fighting down a swell of nausea. Dragging a stray pillow as he sat up, Saeran clutched it as if to smother the queasiness into something manageable. Nuzzling the cool fabric, he gently swayed back and forth until he could inhale without the urge to vomit.

“But I’m useless…how can they expect anything of me?”

For a brief moment, there was silence. In that merciful breadth of space, Saeran recalled his grounding exercises from therapy and let his eyes drift around his room, lingering on various items while his fingers traced the soft flannel sheets over him.

It was fine until he caught his reflection in the darkened mirror on the opposite wall. The sound of his own derisive laughter trickled across his mind, though his face had settled into something of a glare.

_ You think you'll be accepted when they discover how worthless you are?! Go ahead, let my voice rot while you screw us over again! I'm only pissed I won’t see the next circus act you invent to protect you then! _

Sunlight peeked over the horizon before there was quiet enough for Saeran to finally doze off.

* * *

“Dude…you look trashed! Are you sure you’re up to hanging out?”

Jerking at the worry in Zen’s voice, Saeran hesitated before waving dismissively. Squeezing his shoulder, Saeyoung stepped forward as a buffer.  “So cold, Zen! We can’t all look like God blessed us personally like you, but that doesn’t mean we should become hermits!”

Shooting Seven a deadpan scowl, Zen clicked his tongue.  “Quit playing, eye bags aren’t a joke. You might be used to running on fumes, but you should want better for your brother!”

“Wow…he didn’t even take the bait to praise himself…” Yoosung murmured quietly before Saeran moved to grab a nearby cart.

“I’m fine, just slept poorly—let’s get what’s needed so we can prepare for tonight.”

Zen sighed but took a basket, following with an easy smile as Yoosung withdrew the coupons. Thinking that he’d effectively escaped, Saeran let out a soft breath that hitched immediately at Saeyoung’s hand on his shoulder again.

“I didn’t want to press it in front of them, but are you really okay to be out?” 

Appreciating the discretion, Saeran nodded slightly.  “I can’t just stay inside a room forever and this…I can do this…”

Saeyoung smiled proudly, easing back into his usual cheer. Planning to reconvene at the food court, they darted down the frozen aisle while Zen and Yoosung covered the produce section. After carefully comparing the meat and seafood, the twins eventually found the booths where the other two sat arguing with a basket of vegetables beneath the table. 

“Corn tastes good in hot pot, it’ll work best with the soup!”

“Yoosung, it’s high carbs with no nutrition!”

“That’s a myth, it’s good for your eye—oh! Over here!” 

Yoosung broke off to signal them over;Saeyoung flopped into a chair, grinning mischievously, “Ooh, youth vs beauty having a heated debate?” 

Saeran seated himself uneasily, ever curious of Saeyoung’s penchant for chaos. Zen tapped the table impatiently, resurrecting Yoosung’s frown.

“Yoosung’s getting junk that’s just going to make us bloated—“

“Oh please, just because you picked tofu doesn’t mean it’s going to blend well or taste good—you didn’t even get the right firmness!” 

There was a heavy thud as Saeyoung hefted the basket up for closer inspection, “What do you think, Saeran? I can probably save us the trouble by using the veggies at ho—“

“—You’re not putting Honey Buddha Chips in hot pot!” 

All three interrupted simultaneously with Saeran tugging the basket defensively; reeling back, Saeyoung turned to Saeran in mock despair, “You too, brother?  _ I’m wounded!” _

Saeran stared flatly before peering into the basket. Moving the items carefully, the frailer twin hummed thoughtfully as he considered each selection, “I think...corn is fine for flavor accenting, but also use mushrooms and either some organic napa cabbage or bok choy to provide more options to go with the lamb, lobster and scallops we found.”

This explanation seemed to satisfy both parties as they nodded in agreement, and Saeyoung paused his melodramatics for another proud smile. Saeran fidgeted, unfamiliar with having his decisions regarded by those who didn’t fear him, but a curiously pleasant fluttering in his abdomen flushed his cheeks.

“Wow…that sounds great! How did you pick the meat and why organic veggies? Do they make a difference in taste?”

It was such an innocent question; Yoosung, having his own interest in cooking, openly welcomed and admired Saeran’s perspective.

It didn’t occur to him to hesitate in answering.

“Ah…Zen only eats organic produce and lean meats out of concern for his skin; neither Jumin nor his assistant dislike anything in particular, but she opts for healthier choices when available while Jumin is accustomed to richer flavors. You enjoy bold tastes, so it was just a matter of picking light meats and vegetables that absorb spices easily for enhanced flavor when combin—!”

Saeran broke off with a quiet gasp that went unnoticed by everyone but his twin, the other two leaning back, marveling loudly at the in-depth explanation. 

Saeyoung eyed him warily but rejoined the conversation. “Saeran’s always been amazing, you two are just slooooow~!”

“Oi, at least one of you can be considerate of others…”

The conversation faded out as the mocking laughter that plagued his sleep came to haunt him in the daylight. 

_ Amazing…not even an hour to botch it! _

His hands shook under the table.

_ But maybe you’ll get lucky after all: these two are too stupid to realize the truth. This is why they needed Mint Eye—they took memorizing the details of their pointless lives as some token of kindness! _

Saeran tried to swallow, but his tongue sat uselessly. Eyes desperately moving around, his lungs began to wheeze when they failed to focus on anything. 

_ It’s like livestock feeling complimented at being told they’re delicious...and not seeing the butcher knife in your hand! _

The world only rushed back into focus when Saeran abruptly stood up.

“Saeran…?”

He barely moved his head, but found Saeyoung’s worried gaze. Saeran forced down a surge of bile.

“…I forgot something! See you at home!”

He fled before the others could stop him. 

_ ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry _ …!’

* * *

He shivered violently the entire ride home, only stabilizing when focusing on meal prep. The unpleasant clenching had almost faded—

<Hey, heads up: Trustfund Kid is gonna actually make it this time—I’m gonna get more beer, lol. Lmk if you’re missing anything!>

Saeran felt ice in his veins as his eyes blurred over Zen’s text. It took everything in him to pull up the remaining instructions for the recipe to forward to Yoosung before dry-heaving into the toilet.

_ Aw…don’t think you can handle a meal with Jumin…? _

The sarcastic drawl came with the familiar sensation of his throat constricting.

_ —what’s wrong? You only  _ **_murdered_ ** _ his best friend~ _

The rest of the night was spent beneath his duvet, texting another apologetic lie to Saeyoung.

* * *

The street was eerily quiet as Saeran waited at the bus stop.

That was fine—between the bustling outside his room the night before and the taunting of the other voice, quiet was  _ welcome _ .

Initially, he planned to plead with the hospital to resume treatment; anything to stop his own hateful voice from convincing him that every moment of rest was another opening for calamity.

But as sunlight bounced off golden tendrils dancing into his line of vision, his heart stopped. Like some cruel joke, he arrived at safety only to find  _ her  _ between him and the entrance, eyes cast toward the horizon.   
  


_Rika_.

The familiar pressure smothered his throat and chest, but the snarling voice never came. Anger flooded his vision, terrifying him as his feet moved toward his former master and her attending nurse—despite his desperate urge to flee.

“Oh, good morning! Ah—you know my patient?”

“Yes…she used to look after me…at church.”

Saeran wanted to scream; the voice was his but it wasn’t what  _ he _ wanted to say. Nonetheless, the attendant accepted his answer easily, gesturing at the doors, “If you would just sign—oh, what  _ now _ ?”

Static buzzing cleared as an urgent voice called for help over the radio. Cold sweat gathered at his nape; this was working out either too well or horribly—Saeran wasn’t sure, but the lack of control he had was highly unnerving.

“If it helps, I can stay with her while you handle that! I’ll sign in after.”

The words poured sweetly from his false smile; Saeran was panicking internally as the caretaker accepted graciously with the promise of swift return, and now?

Now he was alone with the broken remnant of the one who had rescued and destroyed him: 

The Savior.

Rika merely kept her wide eyes on the gradually brightening sky.

“Look at me,” he hissed; she would give him his due. Eventually, the vivid jade eyes drifted over, curiously innocent.

Something about her innocuous gaze set off a tingling that burned and seeped from his eyes like magma; no matter how he willed her to flinch or even just stiffen cautiously, the spark of realization never came.

The woman who saved him from his childhood hell only to plunge him into a poisoned adulthood…didn’t recognize him at all.

“You said you had all the answers—but we’re both here, more fragile than ever! You said you were making me strong, so I could be prepared for this hell, but you—,‘ his breath hitched, but the words continued to spill, ‘—I can’t enjoy peace because I only know war!”

The slender brows creased in confusion as she tilted her head. A sob crawled from his ragged throat, hands catching the hem of her skirt before slipping to the ground along with his knees.

“You…you’ve broken me! And I—,’Saeran choked on a hiccup as his shoulders sagged,’...I’ve broken you…and eventually Jumin Han…and then Saeyoung when everything shatters…”

Save for his teardrops splattering against cement, the grounds were silent. No matter how he raged or wept, his brain didn’t calculate any outcome that didn’t require a sacrifice; just a life of constant running, alone. 

“I can’t…I don’t know how to be strong on my own, even before you. So—,’ he rasped, clenching his jaw, ‘—tell me what to do. You were good at that before— **say something**!” 

At his withering glare, the woman considered him before turning to walk away.

“You _dare_ …? Heh...of course…” 

Saeran trailed off, unraveling as he fell forward, palms scraping the pavement. The overwhelming despair finally unseated the fury that had possessed him since arriving—but Saeran was familiar with hopelessness. He had to escape before his rage returned, before he could harm anyone else—

A faint whiff of earth and soft combing through his disheveled hair broke his concentration. 

“Don’t TOUCH—?!” His hand clamped around the wrist as he snapped before a damp clump was placed in his other fist.

“…Grow...?” 

Bewildered, it took another moment before Saeran realized that she had spoken.

“What…?”

Smearing dirt across his cheeks as she gathered the tears, Saeran watched as Rika shook them over the mound containing a single dandelion. Her face held none of the reserved composure or pitying condescension when she was The Savior; instead, she frantically tugged them both to their feet, wildly gesturing between the lump in his hands and the sun creeping overhead, loose flecks of soil scattering.

“Grow!”

At the urgent plea, Saeran looked down into her eyes and gasped as if seeing a ghost; she was finally looking at him in a way that felt an entire lifetime ago. 

Before her madness consumed them. 

Somewhere in the haze, Saeran noticed the nurse had returned, lightly fussing over the earth caked under her patient’s nails while Rika continued waving toward the sky. 

“S-sorry,” he finally spoke, shaking from his stupor. The nurse waved casually, smiling.  “It’s fine. The groundskeeper will be pleased anyway; no matter what he does, the dandelions always find a way back—oh, but do take it with you please? She’s unusually insistent today.”

A moment later, the clipboard was extracted. Saeran froze, staring between the visitors form and the humble flower cupped in his palm. Taking it as a sign when a curious restlessness agitated the soles of his feet, he hastily excused himself with an apology and sped back to the bus stop.

* * *

_ You’ll destroy everything. _

“…Possibly.”

_ No tears? That’s new for you… _

Inhaling deeply, Saeran held the contact lens between his face and the mirror, natural gold contemplating the electric blue.

“You’ve been quieter...less angry recently.”

A silent beat—

_ …Idiot…I’m just tired _

“—so we finally agree on something.”  Quietly, Saeran replaced the lens within the case, shutting the medicine cabinet.

_ …You really think you’ll survive without me? _

Exiting the bathroom, he searched a drawer for a shirt, careful of disturbing the pot on the surface.  Having bent the stem during transport, a small stake and planter’s tape helped the dandelion to stand once more. Fingering the petals gently, Saeran came to a decision.

“I won’t be without you…but I have to take control. You weren’t created to lead, only follow—but me? I have to try.”

Inspecting his reflection, Saeran took in his reclaimed red hair and tired gold eyes, relieved that the skin wasn’t puffy or raw anymore.

_ Even if it costs everything? _

“I’ll take it slowly. But I want real peace, not something bought with more lies.”

_ …You’re stupid…but you’ve finally found your balls. Fine; I’ll be here when it goes to shit. _

“Thanks—I think. Even if it fails, it will at least be my decision.”

His heartbeat finally steady, Saeran shut the door behind him just as sunlight landed on recovering flower.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
